


Juniper Berries and Concussions

by Godsliltippy



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: F/M, Only One Bed, Romantic Fluff, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:02:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21903436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godsliltippy/pseuds/Godsliltippy
Summary: John Tracy to the rescue
Relationships: Captain Ridley O'Bannon/John Tracy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	Juniper Berries and Concussions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sempaiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sempaiko/gifts).



> A Christmas present for my Bestie!

A pulse, just behind her left eye, radiated outwards with tiny, sharp daggers urging her to keep them closed. The pressure of a hand in hers and the soft touch of fingers pushing back the short bangs from her forehead urged otherwise. 

"Ridley?" His voice was soft in her ear and she peeked one eye open, grateful for the shadow he cast in the fluorescent lighting. Her head hurt and she wasn't entirely in the mood to increase the pain. John understood that as he cocked his head down to give her a better view of his face. No helmet meant he wasn't going anywhere. They weren't going anywhere. Where were they, anyway?

"Mm-what happened?" Ridley blinked against the percussion in her frontal lobe, giving his hand a squeeze, which he returned. Bless him. 

"Global One lost contact with you. Your ship was hit and you'd been adrift for the past day and a half. Remember?" She could hear the concern. Memory loss would mean big trouble.

"Oh, I remember, sorta. Didn't I send a distress call?" Or was she thinking about what she would've done in this situation had she not been concussed?

"You did, but your comms are busted. There's a recording on repeat, but it's not going anywhere." John flashed her a sympathetic smile. "I was lucky to find you through the limited range of your radio signature, which surprisingly still functions after being hit by space debris. Your call never made it to the GDF, but it still did the job. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've hit too many bars and not enough of them with you." She smiled at the soft rouge that peaked over his cheekbones and ears. 

He recovered well, though. "Unfortunately, I don't drink, so we'll have to find somewhere else to go."

"Right now, my bed sounds pretty nice." It hit her the moment the words fell out of her mouth and the crimson on his face intensified. "To sleep - mind on the mission cowboy. What is the mission anyway? Heading home now?"

John cleared his heart from his throat and shook his head. "Not just yet. We've been drifting for quite a while since I got here and there's too much debris making its rotation. We'll be stuck here for another few hours, at least. Then, I can fly us back to Thunderbird 5."

"Right, well that's just peachy." She pinched the bridge of her nose before blinking again. John's face was closer now as he took a seat on one of the equipment crates. For the first time since waking up to his presence, she saw the puffy skin under his eyes, darkened from too much time in front of holograms and not nearly enough time sleeping. "Hey, you look exhausted. Don't tell me you've been working too hard."

"Okay," green eyes darted away from hers. 

"That pretty much answers that," Ridley pushed her own discomfort away for the time being. "John, you need a break. Why didn't you send one of your brothers to come find me?"

"It's fine, Ridley. My brothers are off dealing with their own rescues or on mandatory down time. I'm fine." That last part seemed more to convince himself than it was to convince her. 

"Hey," her tone softened. "We've got some time. Why don't you lay down and take a nap? It'll do you some good." 

"It's fine," he tried again. "Plus there's only one bed in this little ship of yours and I'm not about to let you off of it just so I can sleep."

"Who said I have to get off?" A sly grin pulled at the corner of her mouth, but she already knew she had him as she rolled slowly onto her side. "Climb on up here. Plenty of room."

There was a deep sigh of defeat, John getting up from the crate before carefully climbing over her to lay against the wall. As he settled, she grabbed his hand and pulled it over her shoulder, much to his bewilderment. He didn't protest, though and Ridley let herself rest against his chest. His slow breaths mingled with her own as she watched the stars and planets float by the window. Space was always beautiful, but especially so in these moments. Just her and John in the silence and calm. 

Her fingers toyed with his, running smooth circled over his palm with the pad of her thumb. He would give it a gentle squeeze before she continued, the rhythm gradually sending him deeper into the pull of unconsciousness. After a moment, she noticed his distinct scent. His scent - of juniper berries, eucalyptus, peppermint and tea tree. Ridley only knew the exact smell after stealing a bar of his soap from Thunderbird 5. He'd had plenty and it honestly helped when they were both stuck at their jobs. 

It didn't take long for her to realize his breathing had grown steady, in and out, but there was no way for her to tell if he was asleep. She hadn't been mistaken when she'd looked at him. John was exhausted. If he wasn't asleep now -

And a soft snore sounded into her hair, followed by another. His arm had lost its ability to hold her close, not that she planned on moving. No, she was content, wrapped in the arms of an idiot who cared more about her than his own well being. 

The hand in hers slid up to her face without resistance and she placed a kiss to it, happy with the smudge of red lipstick over the high tech blue fabric. A surprise for when he woke up. 

Ridley knew this would only be a short reprieve for the red-head, his work demanding more of him than he had to give, but she would give him all the time she could. It was the least she could do as she pulled his arm back around her and closed her eyes, concussion be damned.


End file.
